Samhain falls on the eve of the last day of October- from sunset on the 31st October, the Celtic fire festival- and the final harvest- begins. It’s a time of honouring the dead, our connection to our ancestors, a time of sacrifice and is when the veil is at its thinnest between the world of the living, and the world of the dead. As a modern Pagan, I also celebrate Hallowe’en with my family, and this year was the first that my son went trick-or-treating. It was- truth be told- also the first time I had been trick-or-treating. It wasn’t something that I did as a child, and I never felt I had missed out on anything much, as I’d found my own way to celebrate Samhain when I first began to walk my path as a teenager.
So now, along with my own child, my inner child is getting to experience the joys of Hallowe’en. This year, we carved our pumpkins. We had lunch in the woods. We listened to a Hallowe’en playlist, we baked cookies and finally, as the sun set, we headed out to trick-or-treat.
My inner child was as happy and gleeful as my four and a half year old son as he skipped and ran down the street in his costume.
As he tired and the inevitable sugar crash hit as he got to bed, I turned my thoughts to Samhain- the root of some of the traditions that we celebrate Hallowe’en with. I thought of my ancestors and of the Dark Goddess, who at this time, is the Crone. I had a solitary ceremony I wanted to do, especially with the New Moon in Scorpio falling on the 1st November- but the excitement of the day coupled with insomnia I’d been experiencing lately, had left me exhausted. I knew I wasn’t in the frame of mind to hold ceremony and sacred space for myself, and my thoughts were tinged with guilt. My inner child, still at the forefront from the joy and excitement of Hallowe’en, felt that she’d let herself and the Goddess down by not doing a ceremony on the night of Samhain.
It was then I remembered that Samhain was not just one night- Samhain season lasts weeks. The weekend before Samhain, I’d joined other Priestesses and held a public ceremony for the Dark Goddess, our ancestors and the community. More than that- it was one that I’d written every word that was spoken. I’d channelled the Goddess, as Pennine, as Hecate, to weave a ceremony with others that was both beautiful and deep. Two days before Samhain, I held my own small ceremony to honour the cycle and the beginning of the new one. To honour Persephone, who had descended into the Underworld and reclaimed her crown as Queen. To release what I no longer needed to make room for the new. The day after Samhain, I’d sat in candle light and gazed into my dark mirror with some questions I needed guidance on.
I was reminded that Samhain is a time to spiral downwards and inwards- and honouring my boundaries to rest when I needed, and to fill my own cup when needed, too. The knowledge came from my own inner crone who holds the wisdom of my life and my desire for knowledge. My inner child gave me the excitement to celebrate the day in a way that fitted into my family, and my inner crone gave me the wisdom to know that I was also celebrating and honouring Samhain as a way that fits into my own personal life.
I’m still sinking deeper into this energy of Samhain. My birthday is a few days away, and so the spiral continues to turn and at this time of year, it sends me deeper. Each year feels deeper than the last, with new lessons, new experiences and therefore more knowledge. I reflect on the year just passed and the year yet to come. I’m already beginning to plant the seeds of next year, to see which will germinate and be nourished in the soil’s embrace- to see which ideas and inspiration will take root and carry on into the next year.
Blessed Samhain to you all.